Divergent Heat
by WritersOfTheRain
Summary: This is a contemporary story with the Divergent characters. Tris goes to Amsterdam to spend Spring Break with Christina and her friends in hopes of escaping school stresses and her breakup with a former boyfriend. But things heat up quickly when she catches the eye of a very desirable stranger at a club...
1. Chapter 1

Sexy Twilight After Dark 1

The blaring music was almost deafening, but in such a delicious way. My girls and I sexed it up real good, running our hands over our bodies, grinding to the floor, and giggling like high schoolers.

It had been an awful week at school with finals looming just a month or two away, and we needed to burn some steam like nobody's business. So what did we do? We bought tickets to Europe and hit up some of the steamiest clubs in Amsterdam. Well, okay, Christina bought us the tickets and made us cancel our Spring Break plans. I was good with that – sometimes her bossiness comes in handy.

She got us hooked up with an all-inclusive resort owned by her uncle and God knows I was glad because it meant my small amount of leftover cash could go towards cute little black dresses.

That particular night, I had chosen a little black halter top dress, appropriately short and sexy, that cut nice and low between my breasts and hugged my hips like a pair of yoga pants. I never considered myself much of a dancer – hell, I was clumsy as all get-out, truth-be-told – but with a little alcohol in my system, I didn't really give a damn.

"Tris!" I glanced over at Christina who looked beyond amazing in a deep red mini-dress that had every pair of male eyes watching her like a hawk. "How many drinks have you had? Are you ready to pick some man-candy?" Luckily, it was too dark for her to see me blush. I had a hard enough time dealing with romance with someone I knew; god-forbid I try to make small-talk with a stranger.

I shook my head, letting my concerns wash away with the flashing lights, and turned away from Christina. God love her, I wasn't going to let her ruin my night by pressuring me into an awkward social situation with a clueless European guy.

I threw my arms over my head, closing my eyes to take in the music. As I opened them, they zoned in on a man standing against the wall, a few feet from the edge of the crowd. I almost tripped over with shock – he was beyond hot. I mean, after all those years of dating Edward, I really didn't think I'd ever find someone as beautiful, but this man…

And his eyes were locked just as resolutely on mine. I stopped dancing and just stared at him; his deep gaze – almost a glare – was boring into me like incredibly pleasurable shards of lightening, his face was chiseled but curious, and his body…well, I couldn't see much of him, but his lean upper half certainly had my imagination reeling. He was clearly American; not from around here. Probably on a business trip or here to take a gander at exotic and foreign hookers.

It suddenly occurred to me how long I'd been staring. I shook myself back to reality and turned around, terrified. _What if he comes over to talk to me? Will he want to dance? And if so, does he have health insurance that covers a podiatrist?_

I felt very vulnerable and squeezed over to the other side of my group of friends, hoping to get lost in the crowd before he could find me. A few minutes later, I felt relieved; it appeared I had averted a crisis. Perhaps he had found another girl to taunt with his tortured stare.

Christina grabbed my hand. "I need another beer."

She dragged me to the bar that sat not far from my mystery man's local. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw he wasn't there anymore, although my heart shrank just a tad. Christina shoved a couple of people out of the way at the bar and ordered two beers.

I tapped her shoulder. "I don't like beer."

She rolled her eyes. "For God's sake, Tris." Alcohol made her a little bitchy…she signaled the bartender. "One beer and one rum and diet."

I smiled. "That's better."

I leaned my elbows up on the bar, glancing at the crowd gathered raucously on the stools. Could it be that there might be a guy I'd be brave enough to talk to? Or even dance with?

I doubted the latter, but as my drink arrived and my inebriation deepened, I began to think the former might be a distinct possibility. My eyes wandered from guy to guy around the semicircle bar counter. _No, no, ewe, too old, too young – Amsterdam clearly doesn't card – looks too nervous, looks too aggressive…_

Then I found those devilish eyes once again, gazing at me from the opposite side of the bar, a smirk playing on a pair of very delicious-looking lips. The arms of his black button-down shirt were rolled up to the elbows, making it impossible to ignore the veins protruding muscularly from his upper arms. A very masculine-looking drink sat in front of him and his long, lean fingers enclosed around the glass like he was stroking…well, let's just say my nipples hardened very quickly.

I realized I wasn't breathing so I poured my attention into my rum and diet, taking special interest in some graffiti scratched into the bar counter. When I looked back up, he was laughing. Is he laughing at me?

My face flushed and I downed the rest of my drink. I grabbed Christina's arm. "We're going back out to dance."

"But I'm not done with my dr-"

"Fuck the drink. We're going now."

Christina was completely taken aback by my boldness, but I didn't care. I didn't come all the way to Amsterdam to be mocked by some strange man getting his jollies on a business trip.

I threw myself into dancing, probably looking like a total idiot, but it kept my mind from wandering back to that smirk. A few minutes in, a local started dancing with me. I fought my nature and attempted to dance with him. He was being much more considerate than most of the other men in the room – perhaps he sensed my apprehension. Instead of plowing over me and assaulting me, he stood behind me, his hands simply placed at my waist, and we just moved.

I was pretty proud of myself. I was dancing with a guy and I hadn't bloodied his toes yet. A few songs passed and he grabbed my hand and led me to the edge of the room. I started to panic, thinking he was going to try to make out with me, but he was headed for the bathrooms. He signaled for me to wait and walked over to the bar. He brought back a drink and I smiled gratefully. Another guy came over to talk to him and he signaled me to wait.

I leaned against the wall and put the drink to my lips. Someone approached me from behind and firmly placed their hand over mine, disabling my ability to tip the alcoholic liquid into my mouth.

"Don't drink it," a voice seethed, "Unless you want to wake up in a sex trafficking ring."


	2. Chapter 2

I immediately scowled. Quite the bold move from a drunken stranger who probably had his own ulterior motiv –

I shouldn't have turned around. Before me stood the gorgeous man from the bar. He was standing very close – very close indeed, his hand still grasped around my drink. I tried to pull it back but he resisted. "I know how to take care of myself, thanks," I miffed.

"Really? How old are you? 21? 22? Are you even old enough to drink? American girls come in here all the time for some harmless fun and then end up in the trunk of an old Ford Fiesta."

I glared. "I'm fine!" I pulled the drink back, spilling it all over my dress. "Great. Thanks for that."

He gave no apology. "Better on your dress than in your digestive system." His eyes lingered on my mouth, and I couldn't help but return the favor.

The guy who gave me the drink returned and cursed with a thick accent. "You were supposed to drink that!" He looked irritated. "It's fine, I'll get you another one."

Mr. Gorgeous quickly had him by the arm. "No, you won't. You will get your people, your shit, and get the hell out of here."

Accent Guy laughed and responded with derision. "Who the hell are you? Chill out, man, have a little fun."

Mr. Gorgeous grabbed him by the throat and threw him against the wall, drawing gasps and stares. I backed up and tried to work out an escape. How did I end up in the middle of this? "Have a little fun? You think it's fun preying on young girls to pad your pockets so you can drive fancy cars and buy expensive prostitutes? You're a sick fuck and you don't deserve to be alive."

Accent Guy managed to squeak out a response. "You've got about two minutes before Peter gets here. And if he sees this, you're leaving in a body bag."

For the first time, Mr. Gorgeous showed a sign of weakness, his eyebrows pulling together in worry. He reluctantly let Accent Guy go. It occurred to me that I hadn't made much progress in my escape so I ran back to the dance floor and fought the crowd to find my friends. They had somehow disappeared - very, very disconcerting. A new song came on – apparently a well-known on – and the crowd became raucous, knocking me around until I fell to the floor. I curled up in a ball and covered my head with my hands, visions of heavy metal concert tramplings poisoning my mind. Fear prompted me to switch to all fours and crawl my way to the edge of the crowd, my hands and knees slipping in spilled beer, cocktails, and some unknown substance I didn't want to contemplate.

I finally reached the edge, a panic attacked just on the cusp of my consciousness. I sat and tried to breathe, the room starting to swirl around me; I needed some fresh air. I moved to stand, but a pair of shiny black shoes was visible just in front of me. I glanced up at the owner of the shoes – it was Mr. Gorgeous, of course.

He reached his hand down as if to help me up. "Need some air?"

I was still dizzy so I didn't have the presence of mind to fight him. I grabbed his hand and stumbled to my feet. He escorted me out the dilapidated club door.

"So I'm not supposed to go anywhere with strangers, but somehow I'm supposed to trust _you_?" I clamored as the cool air soothed my senses.

He looked at me with surprise. "God, no. But I know myself; you're safe."

I huffed and wrapped my arms around myself to flick away the chill. He pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and handed it to me. I took it gratefully. "I suppose it's the least you can do," I muttered.

"The least _I_ can do?" he exclaimed. "I just saved your life. You should be thanking me."

I rolled my eyes. "Yep, I always thank complete strangers who stalk me through clubs and make up bullshit stories about sex traffickers. You've probably got your own outfit near here, don't you? What's your angle? Waiting for me to trust to you and then you'll pounce?"

He turned to me, his eyes blazing. "I am not a piece of shit like those fuckers in there." He pulled out another cigarette. "I have a conscience, for God's sake. Why do you think I'm here?"

He puffed his cigarette and turned away. "Wait a minute: you come here just to save 'damsels in distress' like me? You don't have any else to do?" I laughed. The situation wasn't really funny, but I didn't care.

"Where would you be right now if I hadn't been here?"

I chuckled. "Probably having a good fuck in the back of that guy's car."

He reeled on me, but I didn't let him say anything. "I'm just kidding, Jesus. You don't know me that well – I don't 'do' one night stands and I'm too fucking shy to sleep with anyone the first night I meet them. I don't have a problem with people who do that, it's just not my style. So I'm pretty safe of my own volition, thanks. I don't really smoke either, actually." I glanced sardonically at my cigarette.

He finished his and flicked it in the dirt. "So you're a 'good girl'?"

I snorted. "No. I had a great time in bed with my last boyfriend. In fact, I'm out here trying to get over him…"

He nodded. "I'm Four." He was looking straight ahead as if he'd suddenly become insecure.

"Tris," I responded. I waited for him to say something, but he just stared into the distance. I took a moment to admire his face, his arms, his body… "Everything okay?" I asked.

He turned to me. "Yeah." He looked me in the eye. "Really good, actually." Tingles ran from my head to my toes. He wasn't giving me the angered look from before or the teasing smirk. He was dead serious. He pushed a hair behind my ear and, for a moment, I thought he might kiss. And, to my shock, I wanted him to.

"There you are, Tris!" Christina came running over, shocking me back into the present.

"Where the hell did you go, Christina? I was looking all over for you!"

"We came out for some fresh air, just like you." She gave Four a once-over. "And who is this tasty treat?"

Four didn't seem impressed with her compliment. "This is Four," I replied. "He apparently saved me from some sex traffickers, or something. Now that he's done his citizen's duty, I'm sure he'll be going." I spoke my words quietly – I didn't really want him to leave. Not at all. But I didn't know him from Adam and couldn't think of reason why he'd want to stay around and hang out with me. I was giving us both an out.

"Oh no, no, no," Christina teased, rubbing her hand over his arm, much to my displeasure. "He's coming inside with us. Has Tris claimed you, Four, or are you still on the market?"

I froze. I suddenly had no desire to give him up to Christina and her drunken overly-flirtatious ways. She always got the cute ones. It was my turn! Four must've noticed the look of alarm on my face because he removed her hand from his arm. "I'm definitely not going back in there without Tris. But I don't think she wants to dance."

I looked up at him gratefully. It was like he already knew me better than my own friends.

But Christina shook her head. "Uh-uh. You and Tris are going to come inside and dance. Maybe you'll attract some other hotties in our direction." And with that, she grabbed our arms and dragged us inside with our other friends before we could protest. Four gave me a questioning look, but I just shrugged. Once Christina had her mind made up, there was no deterring her.


	3. Chapter 3

Things had heated up quite a bit inside the club. The couples dancing on the floor were very handsy and the wall was lined with more couples – and threesomes and foursomes, in some cases – who were apparently not at all shy about public exposure. I raised my eyebrows at Four and leaned into his ear. "This is what you like to do every weekend?"

He shook his head. "I don't like it. But…sometimes you have to do things you don't like."

Well that made absolutely no sense. I couldn't think of a single reason to come to a club when you didn't want to. Actually, I take that back, I was there and I didn't necessarily want to be. But every weekend? He must have taken his Sex Trafficking Superman role very seriously.

We all hit the floor and everyone went crazy except me and Four. We danced with some reservation, giggling at my friends as they whipped their hair around and worked their sexiest moves. Christina was the only who actually looked sexy, however. It occurred to me that being a wallflower at these kinds of events wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

The music shifted and one of my favorite songs came on. I jumped up and down with a screech. Christina threw me a massive grin. "Work it, girl!" she mouthed. I threw my arms in the air and allowed myself to get lost in the music for a few moments. The alcohol I'd been drinking coupled with the cigarette was settling in nicely and I almost forgot there was a gorgeous man standing next to me watching me clunk around like an idiot.

As the song came to a close, I opened my eyes and saw Christina grinding up on Four in a drunken stupor. I scowled, but my anger melted into amusement when I realize Four was scowling too. He gave me a pleading look but I shook my head. He dug is own grave by coming out to dance with us; he was damn well going to lay in it.

I couldn't help but laugh as he tried to inconspicuously remove Christina's hands from his ass and push her backward. She was completely oblivious. He had no idea what he was up against; Christina was uncontrollable when she was drunk. She had no loyalty and gave zero fucks about anyone else's discomfort.

Well, she was a little bit like that sober too, but it was extra, super-duper strong with the alcohol to lull her near-nonexistent inhibitions.

I finally took pity on Four and used the only technique that ever worked with Christina. I grabbed her arm and wrenched it backward so she cried out. I then wedged myself between her and Four while simultaneously grabbing the arm of a random guy dancing nearby. I pulled Four close with one arm, and shoved the random male at Christina with the other.

It was flawlessly executed; they were grinding the living hell out of each other in seconds. Christina even seemed to appreciate it. Four wrapped his arms around me and leaned down so I could feel his breath on my ear. "Thank you. I would much rather dance with you."

"I suppose we can call it even now, can't we?" I jabbed.

He snorted. "I saved you from a sex trafficker; you saved me from an overly-rambunctious hot girl. I think the scales are still tipped in my favor."

I pulled his head close so my lips brushed his ear. "You don't know Christina."

He laughed and I turned around, smiling to myself as he clung to my hips. Christina and her new boy were now making out, but she stopped for a short moment to wink at me.

Goddamnit. She had planned the whole fucking thing. If I'd been any more sober, I would've been pissed, but as it was, Four's body behind mine was more than calming to my usual prickly demeanor.

I leaned into him, enjoying his warmth and soft breath on my shoulder. He reached for my hands and pulled them up around his neck, running his fingers down my arms, then my sides, to rest on my hips again. The goosebumps infecting me were heavenly - I suddenly understood the appeal of meeting a dark, handsome stranger at a noisy, overcrowded club and then dragging him to a dark corner to make out. I felt like I could even take this guy back to our hotel and fuck him without a second thought – that was definitely _not_ in my normal bag of tricks.

The music slowed and became more sensual. I rolled my hips into Four and he ran his fingers down to my thighs and back up to my hips again. God, it felt good. His hands were like magic. I felt his lips briefly brush my neck, then make their way back to my ear where he kissed me again.

"Are you okay with this?"

Was I okay? I was in fucking European heaven. I just nodded, hoping he would keep talking in that low, sexy baritone voice of his.

"If I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just let me know. I'll stop without hesitation."

I smiled. I doubted I'd stop him from trying anything at that point. I nodded again and he started kissing down my neck, stopping at the edge of my shoulder where I felt his tongue on my skin. I almost had an orgasm right there. He kissed across my shoulder, nudging my dress strep to the side on his way. I shuddered and pulled his neck to me, willing him to continue. He wrapped his arms around my waist and buried his face in my neck.

"God, you smell good," he said.

I ran my hands through his hair, then finally got the guts to turn around. I pulled him close and he placed his leg between mine, dipping me up and down. I'd never felt so comfortable dancing before – he seemed to know just how to guide me into each move. I placed my forehead against his and let the heat between us rise to the next level. His lips looked so delicious. I could already feel him hardening under me, so I knew he was as spellbound as I was. I finally tipped my head up, just barely, so our lips were aligned…and I waited. He stopped dancing and stroked my hair with his hand, his breath erratic and heavy. But he hesitated just a moment too long and some drunken idiot slammed into him from the side.

"Sorry, man," he mumbled, "I just…" The guy turned away and puked.

I grabbed Four's hand and signaled to Christina that we were headed towards the lounge. I pulled him around the mess and over to the hallway. I didn't want to leave, though. The pulsing music and flashing lights was tantalizing and I wanted to feel like I was in another world when I finally got this strange man to kiss me. I found a spot just inside the club that was relatively unmanned and backed myself up against the wall. In uncharacteristic fashion, I raised my pointer finger and gestured for him to come to me.

He lowered his head, a menacing look in his eyes. He approached me slowly, and pulled my arms around his neck. I let the moment linger as our faces hovered just inches from each other as if daring each other to make the first move. He ran his hand down my arm, over my shoulder, up my neck, and stopped at the base of my chin. His thumb snaked up to brush my lip.

I lost it. I pulled his mouth to mine and kissed him earnestly, passionately. He tried to keep the kiss relatively chaste, but I wasn't having it. I didn't feel this bold very often, and I was determined to the most of it. I teased his mouth open and sought out his tongue. He reacted in a very pleasant way – he took my head in his hands and pulled me close for a deep, sensual, very explorative experience. I clenched the back of his shirt in my fists and pulled it up and out of his pants so I could snake my hands underneath and feel his warm skin. He ran his fingers down my neck, then pulled the straps of my dress off my shoulders. His hands went everywhere. I paused to take a breath, but a break was not in his agenda. His lips went back across my jawline, down my neck, and across my collar bone.

I couldn't get close enough to him. I wanted him badly – but not in the middle of a club. I didn't have the exhibitionist gene so many of the patrons here seemed to have been born with.

"Do you have a car?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, his voice breaking, "but I'll be damned if I'm going to let you get in a car with a complete stranger. No matter how badly I want you."

That last sentence sent tingles straight to my groin. "Then what do you recommend?"

He paused and leaned against me, then kissed my forehead. "I haven't really thought past this moment, to be honest."

Just then, I caught sight of a red dress heading towards the lounge. "Hey, is that Christina's dress?" I asked.

Four didn't move, but started sucking on my neck. "I have no fucking idea was Christina is wearing."

My vision was fuzzy, but realization hit my like a ton of bricks. She wasn't walking to the lounge; she was being carried. "Four! Four, stop. Look!"

I did everything I could to focus my eyes, but I was too drunk to tell if the guy carrying her was the same one who had offered me a drink earlier. Four still hadn't pulled his head out of my neck. "Four, for fuck's sake, if there are really sex traffickers here, then Christina might be in trouble!"

He whipped his head up and scanned the crowd. Christina and her pallbearer were on the outskirts of the lounge, nudging through the crowd. Just before they disappeared down the hallway, the man carrying her turned so we had a perfect view of him, head to toe.

The blood drained from my face. "Fuck."


	4. Chapter 4

_**Sorry guys! Been a little busy lately! If you want to know why, just look up "Stripped Muddy Heels" by Jayne Dixon on Amazon. Hint: Jayne Dixon is me. :) Enjoy this chapter!**_

I stared in shock for several minutes, my legs frozen stiff before Four finally grabbed my arm and force me to start moving.

"We don't have much time!" he yelled.

I stumbled behind him, still too blindsided by the gravity of the situation to respond. Christina was fine, right? This wasn't as serious as it sounded. It couldn't be. This wasn't a movie.

I followed Four as he elbowed his way through the crowd and plummeted out into the darkness.

"They didn't get too far. There's a chance we could catch up to them still. Black BMW with rims. Black BMW with rims…"

My legs kept moving until Four stopped pulling me. We stopped in front of a beautiful blue sports car, the type I couldn't even guess. It was sleek and shiny, looked like it had just been drive off the lot. The likeness of a jaguar leapt from the front of the hood.

"Get in!"

Suddenly reality hit. Wait, I was in a strange country with a strange man with no friends around, I'd had a few drinks, and I was about to get in a car with him?

I backed away a step.

Four, already halfway into the driver's seat, pulled himself back out. "We don't exactly have time to kill here, Tris," he said with clenched teeth.

I ran my hands through my hair, darting my eyes across the parking lot - where was Christina by now? Was she really in trouble? Was this worth the risk?

Four walked over to me, his eyes on a black vehicle exiting the other end of the parking lot. "Tris, I get it. You don't know me. At all. But we have one chance to keep up with those guys, and this is it." His eyes blazed. "Get in the fucking car or don't, but either way, I'm going after your friend." He spun around and raced back to the driver's seat.

Ah hell, I couldn't leave Christina hanging, even if it meant getting in the car with a potential mass murderer. What's the worst that could happen? I had a cell phone.

I dove into the passenger's seat just before he pulled out.

The tires screeched so loud I had to cover my ears. Looking up at Four's intense, livid expression, I started to wonder if my split-second decision had been wise.

"These fuckers have messed with innocent women for the last time. This time, they're not getting out alive. And Peter is going to be the first to go." I could tell his face was flaming red, even in the darkness. He wove through the parking lot like a professional go-kart racer, each time narrowly missing a parked car or light pole. I shivered and sunk lower into my seat.

He eyes flitted over to me as if he'd just remember I was there. "You okay?" he asked, very little empathy in his voice.

I nodded and somehow found my voice. "Do you know where they are?"

He hit the gas to kill a stoplight. It felt like we were going at least three or four times faster than every car on the road. "We're not far behind. I saw them make turn not too far ahead."

I pulled my knees up to my chest. "Who are they?"

Four slammed the breaks to avoid hitting a Ford Fiesta that cut him off. I flew into the dashboard, just narrowly missing a faceplant into the windshield. He hit the horn and didn't let go until he'd found a way to weave around through the other cars and got at least half a mile in front. My body took a good bruising being tossed around by his antics.

"Put on your seatbelt," he barked.

I obeyed magnanimously, buckling my belt more fastidiously than ever before. I clasped my hands and wedged them between my tense legs.

"They're a bunch of fuckers is what they are. Got 'em!" The car lurched again, this time to the left and we plowed right through the middle of a roundabout, attracting all sorts of screeching tires and honking horns. I gave a petty wave to the pissed off drivers as we passed, but it was of little use considering they barely had time to see me.

I gripped my seat. "I get that we're in a hurry, but...I think I might puke."

Four reached in the back and handed me a paper bag. "Do it in there."

I scowled, but it melted quickly into worry as the dire straits we were in truly hit. God, I had a horrible thing with delayed reactions. "What are they going to do to Christina? What if they rape her? What if they _kill_ her?"

Four placed his hand softly on my knee. "We'll find her before anything like that happens." His face seemed to have calmed just slightly and it gave me some essence of hope. "These guys are human traffickers. I don't want to scare you - because we will find her, I always do - but they sell women and children into slavery. So far, my record in recovering victims I witness them kidnapping is 100%. And I'm not about to change that."

I buried my face in my hands, my heart pounding right out of my chest. "I assume you're not referring to the kind of slavery where women go work in the rice fields all day…"

He didn't say anything at first. When I looked up he gave me a more reassuring glance. "100%. Don't forget. 100%."

I placed my hand on his and he pulled it into his grasp.

We pulled onto a long, narrow road that looked similar to a 2-lane highway in the states. Far ahead I could see the two rear lights of a car. "Is that them?"

"Yes. They'll be on this road for a while. They have a pretty regular drop-spot just outside Frankfurt, Germany." He ran his thumb over my palm. "We'll be on the road for a little while, babe."

I couldn't shake the tingles that ran through me upon hearing him call me 'babe.' I'd never had a pet name before. It hardly seemed real, and my terror for Christina's situation made it difficult to appreciate the moment, but it was nice - even for just those few seconds - to feel like maybe something good could come out of this nightmare I'd been thrust into.


End file.
